Captain Jack
by Sinnamon Spider
Summary: Jack touches a couple of lives and leaves indelible marks. Oneshot, no pairing.


**Disclaimer:** All characters belong to Disney. Song lyrics belong to Billy Joel.

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A/N: Another drabble, this time not based on a scene. This is based on Billy Joel's song "Captain Jack", specifically the chorus, and concerns Jack's first encounters with Scarlett and Giselle. The first two lines refer to Scarlett, the second two to Giselle.

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**Captain Jack**  
By: Sinnamon Spider

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_Captain Jack will get you high tonight  
__And take you to your special island  
__Captain Jack will get you by tonight  
__Just a little push and you'll be smilin'_

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Scarlett stumbled out of the inn, hissing through her teeth at the innkeeper. He was throwing her out, and after all she'd done for him too, the ingrate.

It didn't matter in the long run, though, since the inn was offering no customers for her, and the night was warm and almost over. She stalked the streets around the inn, flashing her dark eyes at the men. But it was nearly dawn and at that hour, there were only two kinds of men out and about; soldiers who either leered at her but moved on or blushed flaming red with youthful embarrassment, or tavern patrons who were so drunk they couldn't look at her and walk at the same time.

She headed for the closest tavern, figuring it was worth a shot. At least she might get a drink out of it.

She pushed open the doors, nodding to the barkeeper. "Scarlett!" Someone called out to her, but it was a woman's voice, so she took no notice. Then she saw him.

Seated in the dark corner, he blended right in. Dark dreadlocked hair, dark eyes that tracked her movements as she walked toward his table, darkly tanned fingers that spun a coin on the tabletop.

She perched on the table, leaning forward so he could see down her dress. "Care for a romp, love?" she asked easily.

He grinned, one side of his mouth quirking upwards. "Why don't you sit and have a drink instead?"

She stared for a bit, hardly believing her good fortune. Then she slid off the table, into the chair across from him as he signalled the girl. She came over with two tankards, a sultry smile for the man and a wicked glare at Scarlett, who bared her teeth. The girl blanched and skittered away as her customer began to laugh.

"Protective, aren't we?" he said between chuckles. Scarlett shrugged easily. "We all have to earn a living."

"That we do, m'dear. But I think I can make your night a bit easier and I daresay a trifle more fun." He dropped a few more coins on the table. "If she gives you anymore trouble," he said, motioning to the serving girl, "Bite her."

Scarlett laughed, quickly pocketing the money. The stranger left, tipping her a wink, and Scarlett snapped her fingers at the girl, who scowled and stomped over.

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Giselle stumbled out of the butcher shop, her dress hanging in tatters. Her kohl ran in murky rivers down her cheeks as she ran blindly through the streets of Tortuga, ignoring the whistles and catcalls that followed her. Just as long as he wasn't following her.

She had been a whore for a little over three months now. She thought that she would have stopped crying by now when a customer got a little rough. They did, all too often, when they were drinking or just careless. But after three months, she was still prone to tears. She had seen a woman crawl out of an alley, gather the scraps of her ragged dress around her and wipe the blood off her temple as she neatly propositioned a sailor.

And here she was, sobbing because the butcher had pulled her hair and ripped her dress.

She continued to run, heading for the inn she had managed to get a room in when she rammed hard into someone.

She would have fallen backwards, but hands reached out to snatch her arms and keep her on her feet. "Whoa, there, sweetling," a low, velvety voice spoke.

"Sorry, sir," she gasped out, pulling her hands free. The man released her and she wiped her eyes, staring up at him. He seemed very dark, though it may have just been the night that coloured him that way; dark hair twisted in dreadlocks, dark eyes smouldering from beneath kohl-lined lids, darkly tanned skin that glinted with just a little sweat in the muggy heat of a Caribbean night.

He appraised her silently, sweeping those mysterious eyes from her ragged hem to her mussed hair. Then a knowing smile tilted his full lips. "Rough night?" he asked lightly.

She nodded, embarrassed.

He grinned, revealing a mouthful of gold teeth. Then he rummaged in his dark calico coat, drawing out a handful of coins. Gently grasping her hand, he poured the money into it, closing her fingers.

She frowned. "Did you want…" She let the sentence trail off. He shook his head. "Nope. Just thought you could use a hand." He tipped her a wink and brushed past her, disappearing into the night.

Giselle stared after him for a long time, before a smile lighted on her dirty face.

She headed off to her inn.

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End file.
